


Rinse and Repeat

by deepliketherivers



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Meeting, Happy birthday Akaashi!, M/M, hairdresser au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8767318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepliketherivers/pseuds/deepliketherivers
Summary: Bokuto is tired of snooty hairstylists telling him that he can't realize his dream of looking like an owl. Kuroo suggests someone, failing to mention that he looks like an actual god amongst men. A fun little one-shot for my son's birthday!





	

“Listen, bro, I’m telling you.” Kuroo insisted, “This hairdresser is amazing. I go to him once a month and he never judges me, and he does a great job.”

Bokuto looked doubtful, “I don’t know, you know how sensitive I am. I can’t take one more barber looking at me like they’re disappointed in my life choices.”

“Bo, I know, that’s why I’m trying to help you.” Kuroo pulled his wallet out of his pocket and rifled around in it until he found what he was looking for: a sleek, black business card with the name Akaashi Keiji written on it in thin, white letters.

He held out to Bokuto, “Here, just call him. If you don’t like him, I’ll buy you ramen or something to make it up to you. I literally told him last time that I hadn’t brushed my hair in a week, and he didn’t even blink.” 

Bokuto took the card, shooting Kuroo some side eye as he did, but tucking it into his back pocket, “Fine, but I’m holding you to that.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “You won’t have to, just let Akaashi take care of you.”

* * *

Later in the week, Bokuto found himself walking through the narrow streets of downtown Tokyo, searching for the address he’d been given for Akaashi’s salon. The shops here were small and crowded together, and he was afraid that he would pass it without noticing. 

Snow fell lightly from the sky, dusting his shoulders and making him shiver. He pulled his hat tighter around his ears and squinted to see better through the falling flurries. 

Just ahead, he could make out a sign that read _Hair Cuts and Color. Walk-In’s Welcome_ and a name in French that he was pretty sure matched the business card. He sped up, anxious to escape the snow and the cold. 

Walking inside, he could see that it was a small establishment, with only four stations for customers. Two of the chairs were occupied, with stylists and clients chatting away. There was an electric fireplace blazing on the back wall, and Bokuto smiled blissfully as he felt it start to warm him instantly. 

He approached the front counter and waited, pulling off his hat and gloves. 

“Akaashi!” One of the hairdressers called towards the back room, “We have a client! Could you help them, please?”

The stylist turned and smiled at him, “Just a moment, sir. He’ll be with you shortly.”

Bokuto nodded good-naturedly, already feeling at ease in this homey atmosphere. The salon he usually frequented was easily triple this size, and decorated in the modern style, with sleek white counters and chrome accents. Maybe he wouldn’t be forcing Kuroo to buy him ramen, after all. 

From the back room, a dark-haired man emerged, and as he got closer, Bokuto felt his heart plummet to his stomach. 

_Oh please, please, don’t let that be Akaashi._ He thought, his eyes going wide. _I cannot have that man style my hair._

He was the kind of beautiful that made artists want to paint and musicians want to play. Sleepy grey eyes peeked out from underneath, thick, sooty lashes. His lips curved down in a contemplative expression, pink and slightly shiny. Warm olive skin complimented his dark hair perfectly, and Bokuto cursed the world for being so damn unfair. 

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” the angel asked in a soft, soothing voice. 

“Um…” Bokuto struggled to maintain eye contact, “My name is Bokuto Koutarou, I had an appointment with Akaashi?”

The stylist nodded, “That’s me, I was expecting you. Please follow me to my station.”

Akaashi turned around, and Bokuto got his first look at his ass. He bit his lip and looked away, unable to believe his misfortune. There was no way he was going to be able to relax in the presence of that ass. It was impossible. 

Bokuto sat down where he was told, and Akaashi fastened a cape around his neck. “You said on the phone you were interested in a dye job as well as a hair cut. Is that correct?”

Bokuto nodded, finding it was a little easier to talk to Akaashi’s reflection than it was to his face. “Um, yeah. I’ve been wanting to change my style for a while now and… one of my friends recommended you.”

“Could you tell me specifically what you want?” Akaashi prompted, “Did you bring a photo with you?”

Bokuto gulped, but gathered up his courage and reached into his pocket. “It’s… I know it’s kind of weird. But this is sorta… my inspiration.”

Akaashi took the picture and looked at it for a moment. “You want to look like an owl?”

Red flushed up his neck, “Yes? I was thinking a combination of black and silver… Or just silver if you… if you think it would look funny to do the other…”

Akaashi hummed contemplatively, “No, we should go for it. It will be a unique aesthetic, but there’s nothing wrong with that. You said black and silver?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto grinned broadly, “Yeah, you really think it’s a good idea?”

Akaashi shrugged, “As long as it’s what you want, I see no reason why you shouldn’t look the way you choose to. You’re already blonde, but we’ll still have to lighten you up first with some bleach, and then we can go in with the color. I’m afraid you’re going to be here for a little while. Excuse me while I go mix your lightener.”

Akaashi walked away, and Bokuto spun himself around in his chair, still smiling, Kuroo was right, Akaashi was great! He was starting to get used to looking at him as well, so maybe this wouldn’t be so bad!

His hairdresser returned with a bowl full of bleach and a pair of gloves. Methodically, he began to brush the paste into Bokuto’s hair. 

“So, tell me what inspired you to change your hair, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi asked, prompting his client to talk while he worked. 

“Well, owls are my favorite animal!” Bokuto enthused, eager to talk about his passion for nocturnal birds, “They were the mascot for my high school volleyball team, and I just fell in love with them. I’m studying zoology at college, because I want to work with birds. I’d be happy working with pretty much any animal, but my dream is to work in an aviary.”

Akaashi nodded, still working the color through his hair, “That’s an admirable career choice. You played volleyball in high school?”

They continued on like this for a while, Akaashi asking questions and Bokuto answering, his replies getting longer and longer as he realized that Akaashi was happy to just listen. It was rare to find someone who didn’t eventually show signs of annoyance at his rambling. 

“Alright, Bokuto-san, I’m going to let you develop for a while under the hood. Follow me.”

Bokuto walked happily behind him, feeling only a little ridiculous in his billowing cape and clear, plastic cap. Akaashi left him under the heater, and went back to his station to work on what looked like a crossword puzzle. 

Bokuto pulled out his phone and sent a text to Kuroo. 

_i’m at my hair appt. you were right._

A minute later, he got a reply, _I told u! Akaashi is v. chill_

Bokuto grinned and messaged back, _U could have warned me, tho! u forgot to mention he’s the most beautiful person to walk the earth._

 _oh, ye. i didn’t think it was relevant._

Bokuto’s eyes darted up to glance at Akaashi, how could anyone think that his face wasn’t relevant? It was possible he’d never encountered anything more relevant to life in general than Akaashi’s face. 

His phone buzzed with another text from Kuroo, _u should get his number, buddy. I believe in u._

 _no._ Bokuto shot back instantly, _don’t even joke,_ he added. 

_why not???_

_b/c he’s out of my league. I don’t want to piss him off and end up w pink hair_

_wat r u talking abt!_ Kuroo wrote back, _u r a handsome, strapping young man. who wouldn’t want to date u?_

“I think you should be developed by now, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto snatched his phone beneath his cape and smiled up at Akaashi, shoving the device into his pocket. “Great!”

They went back to Akaashi’s station, where he was tipped back into the sink. And then Akaashi started the sweet, sweet torture of washing his hair.

Warm water massaged his scalp, and Akaashi hovered just above him, eyes focused on the task at hand. His lips pursed cutely as he concentrated on getting all the bleach out without splattering Bokuto’s face with water. 

Akaashi replaced the nozzle and lathered his hands up with shampoo, and Bokuto closed his eyes as he washed his hair. Long, slender fingers combed through the wet strands, gently working in the shampoo, careful to scoop up any wayward lather that may have dripped down his forehead. Another rinse, and then he went in with conditioner. Bokuto was enveloped in the sweet, tropical scent of coconut, and he knew he’d never be able to smell it again without being transported back to this strangely intimate moment with a beautiful stranger. 

Akaashi lifted the chair back up, roughly drying his hair with a towel before going in with a blow dryer. 

“Wow! My hair is white!” Bokuto marveled, staring into the mirror. 

“Yes, we’ve reached the halfway point.” Akaashi explained, “Once your hair is dry, I’ll put in the colors.”

After blowing his hair out into a white, fluffy mass, Akaashi went back to mix the dyes. Bokuto ran his fingers through his hair incredulously, amazed at how different he looked. 

Akaashi came back with four tubs, ranging in color from almost-black to purple. 

“Um… Akaashi.” Bokuto questioned, “You know I don’t want purple hair… right?”

Akaashi smiled, “I know, Bokuto-san. The purple is going to tone your hair into a nice silver, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried!” Bokuto assured him, hoping he hadn’t insulted him, “I trust you!”

“I’m glad, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi replied simply, and Bokuto was pretty sure he wasn’t mad. Probably. Akaashi was kind of hard to read. 

The stylist didn’t ask him any questions this time, focusing on applying the color. Bokuto was content to just watch, fascinated by the precise movements of the black, gloved hands steadily adding dye to his hair. 

Akaashi hummed absent-mindedly as he worked, and Bokuto was sure that his heart was going to melt into a puddle of goo. He wasn’t sure if a situation could get more perfect, as he sat in a warm chair with snow falling outside, an actual angel humming carols next to him. 

When Akaashi was finished, he sat under the dryer for another 30 minutes, thumbing through a magazine. He was reading an article titled _15 Fail Proof Ways to Confess_ when Akaashi took him back to the chair. 

After another blissful hair washing, Akaashi turned him around. “Would you mind not looking until I’m finished, Bokuto-san?” he asked, “I’d like you to be surprised with the finished product.”

Bokuto nodded enthusiastically, and Akaashi began to snip away, little locks of hair falling to the floor as he worked. Akaashi eventually took off his gloves and picked up a jar, rubbing a waxy substance between his fingers before threading it into Bokuto’s hair. 

The hair dryer came out again, and Bokuto closed his eyes as the hot air hit his face. It was intriguing, the way Akaashi was holding his hair up and blowing into it, rather than pushing it down towards his face. Excitement was building in his gut as he waited for Akaashi to finish and let him see what he’d done. Kuroo’s hair always looked really cool, so he was sure that he would look great!

Akaashi turned the blow dryer off and worked some more of the waxy stuff into his hair, ignoring the way Bokuto was practically vibrating in anticipation. 

With a final look, Akaashi nodded and picked up a towel to clean his hands. “You can turn around now.”

Bokuto spun around in the chair and locked eyes with his reflection, jaw dropping when he saw his hair. The contrast of black and silver was shocking, and Akaashi had styled his hair up and back, pulling it away from his face into two soft peaks. 

Akaashi was watching him closely, “Do you like it? I hope it’s not too much.”

Bokuto beamed up at him, “Are you kidding me?! I look amazing!”

Akaashi’s cheeks reddened, and Bokuto turned back towards the mirror, leaning forward to marvel at his reflection, “Wow! You made me look so cool, Akaashi! You’re the best!” 

Akaashi undid the snap on his cape, pulling it off, “I’m glad that you like it, Bokuto-san.”

“I love it!” Bokuto gushed, cautiously touching the styled strands, “What did you use it make it stick up like that? Can I buy some?”

“Of course, come to the front with me and I’ll ring you up.”

Bokuto followed after him, babbling about Akaashi’s talent. “It’s like you got inside my head and knew exactly what I wanted! I can’t wait to show Kuroo…”

Akaashi gave him his total, and Bokuto handed him the correct amount of cash, adding a generous tip. He took his receipt and pulled on his coat and gloves, leaving his hat off so the world could see his incredible hair, snow be damned. 

“Thank you, Akaashi!” he called as he left the salon, “I’ll be back!”

Akaashi waved back at him, ducking his head to hide his smile. 

Bokuto bounced out, going back towards the subway station. He passed a garbage can on the sidewalk, and stopped to dig his receipt out of his pocket. 

Just as he was about drop it, he noticed something at the bottom, handwritten in pen. He squinted at it, bringing it close to his face to read. A phone number, with a little cartoon owl sketched next to it. 

Bokuto looked around in delight, a surprised laugh bubbling out of him as he realized that Akaashi had left him his phone number. 

He dug his phone out of his pocket, carefully inputting the numbers into a new contact, feeling daring as he added a red heart next to the name. 

Scrolling through his contacts, Bokuto found the name he wanted and stabbed it, bringing his phone up to his ear. 

“Kuroo!” He screeched the moment his friend picked up, “Meet me next to that cat café we went last week, I’m buying _you_ ramen.”


End file.
